


Missteps

by vehlr



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Singquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 04:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4732703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vehlr/pseuds/vehlr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen had thought that leaving flowers in the Inquisitor’s chambers was quite the romantic move. Unfortunately for him, Nautica Trevelyan is completely oblivious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missteps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TangoProxy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TangoProxy/gifts).



Cullen had thought that leaving flowers in the Inquisitor’s chambers was quite the romantic move. The Ambassador seemed to agree.

They stand around the war table as Nautica Trevelyan frowns. “What do you mean, romantic?”

Josephine laughs. “I mean it is rather sweet that someone left you a token of their affections, of course. You must learn to accept this – doubtless there will be other suitors, if not other gifts from this particular one.”

She wrinkles her nose. “I am more concerned about how they got _into_ my chambers, to be quite honest. Commander, would you be a dear and talk to your men? I would _hate_ to have to discipline the lot of them for one man’s error.”

He inclines his head. “Of course, Inquisitor.”

_Shit. Shit shit shit._

*

Varric finds the whole thing outrageously hilarious, bent double as he laughs raucously in the inn later. Cullen has long stopped trying to get further advice from him.

Instead, he turns to Cassandra. “You’re a woman,” he says. “What would work on you?”

She rolls her eyes. “We are not all cut from the same cloth, Cullen. What might work on me would not necessarily impress the Inquisitor.”

Varric leans in, grinning widely. “I doubt our fearless leader would be impressed by a dragon’s skull on her doorstep, for example, and yet the Seeker would probably see that as a marriage proposal.”

She punches him in the arm. “Shut up, dwarf.”

“Any guidance would be helpful.” Cullen nurses his ale with a frown. “Except for yours, Varric.”

Cassandra sighs. “Alright. Have you gauged her interests? Things that she enjoys doing? Does she have a great need of anything in particular?” Cullen shrugs, and she sighs again. “You are hopeless. Find out what she likes and go from there. Perhaps you have a shared interest beyond the Inquisition – for example,” she continues, motioning to the barmaid for another round, “Nautica and I share a passion for – Varric, are you taking notes?”

The dwarf shrugs. “Curly’s had two pints already. I’m hedging my bets and saying he won’t remember this tomorrow.”

She shoots him a small frown, but nods before continuing. Varric looks slightly relieved. Cullen smirks.

He _does_ remember, which is something of a blessing as Varric’s notes mysteriously vanish later in the night.

*

“Inquisitor. I wondered if I might steal a moment of your time?”

She tilts her head slightly, curious at his words. “Of course.” She falls into step with him as they cross the courtyard, ascending the steps to the battlements. The bracing mountain air whips around them, and she makes a half-hearted attempt to tame her hair as she turns to face him expectantly.

“Inquisitor.”

She smiles. “Nautica, please. You don’t have to be so formal all the time, Cullen.”

Right. He smiles wryly. “Nautica. I was wondering if you would care to join some of us this evening in the fields beyond the Keep -“

“Tonight? Oh, I’m afraid I already have a standing date with Cole. He wants to learn how to write, and Varric and I agreed to help.”

He deflates slightly. “Oh. Of course.”

“What was the occasion?”

“Oh, nothing of great importance. Scout Harding has gathered a few people together to sing. It is just a small gathering. There will no doubt be other evenings.”

He had managed to wrangle the bloody Singquisition into order, despite his better judgement, because Cassandra had told him that Nautica enjoyed music. As a consequence, he owed the quartermaster at least four favours and Lace Harding was expecting an audience -

_Shit. Shit shit shit.  
_

*

He collars Varric in the hall.

“You could have _said_ ,” he says through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t plan it!” Varric considers things for a long moment. “Alright. You do me a favour, you can have her for the evening.”

“Why do I feel like I am going to regret this?”

“Convince the Seeker to help Cole instead. That way, the kid’s still got two people to help him, and you get her Inquisitorialness for the night. And morning,” he adds with a leer.

Cullen thinks on the matter. “If Cassandra agrees, of course.”

“Well, stranger things have happened. Maybe leave my name out of things? Might help seal the deal.”

He smiles slightly. “Why her? Why not Madame de Fer or Dorian, or even –“

“Curly.” Varric fixes him with a look. “First name that comes to mind that would be patient with the kid.”

Cullen blinks, before nodding. Now to convince Cassandra of the fact…

*

“Commander!”

Cullen turns at the sound of the Inquisitor’s voice, waiting as she catches up to his position in the courtyard. “Cullen,” he corrects with a slight smile. “There is no need to be so _formal_ , Nautica.”

She laughs at that, swatting his arm, and he feels like a victory had been achieved. “I was wondering if your offer from earlier still stands?”

“Of course. As I said before, it is a regular standing invitation. But does Cole not –“

“Oh, Cassandra said she would much rather teach him to write legibly than in the chicken-scratch excuse I call handwriting,” she drawls, falling into step with him. “Personally, I think she just wants some time with Varric.”

“The two have been less antagonistic as of late,” he agrees.

“The dwarf’s smitten. That much is obvious. Her feelings are… less clear. But she has no idea, the poor thing. So blind.”

He suppresses a smirk. “Well, I suppose it is easy to be blindsided by such matters when you are so wholly devoted to the fight.”

“Nonsense,” Nautica dismisses. “There’s no way she could not see it! Even Cole has started commenting on it! Heart so loud, actions speak louder than words, if only she could hear – you know how he gets.”

“Of course.” The boy – spirit, he corrects mentally, still a spirit in so many ways – had an unnerving gift, to say the least.

“He talks of them often. I think he knows how much I adore them. Did you know Varric got her flowers? She never mentioned it. How sad that must –“  
She stops, stock still, and Cullen turns to face her, concerned.

“Inquisitor?”

“Oh. Oh no. Oh, Maker preserve us.” She looks up at Cullen, reaching up to cup his face. “It was so _obvious_. Oh, how could I be stupid?”

His heart skips. “What was?”

“The _flowers_ , Cullen. They were from _Varric_. Oh, Maker, he’s in love with _me!_ ”

Cullen is perfectly still for a very long moment, not a trace of emotion on his face. When he finally replies, his voice is tight. “Ridiculous.”

“No, don’t you see?” And she lets go of him to pace wildly. “He’s always going on about how strong _she_ is in the face of adversity, but he never says _who!_ And those flowers – my room – he’s smart enough to pick the lock! Oh, and she _cares_ for him and she’s going to be so _crushed_ – and what if she hates me? What if _he_ hates me? I don’t – not _Varric_ , Maker!”

He cannot keep his face straight a moment longer, the laughter echoing around the courtyard as he doubles over, red-faced and in hysterics. “Oh, Andraste’s breath!”

“Cullen!” She looks pained. “This is not funny! They are my dearest friends, and –“

He straightens, trying to bring himself under control as he rests a hand on her shoulder. “Varric is _not_ in love with you,” he says, still chuckling softly. “Trust me, he is not. I think you’ve been misinterpreting Cole. But I can clear this all up, if you’ll allow me to.”

She looks up at him, eyes full of confusion.

“Tonight. If you are still agreeable to the idea.”

“A-alright. But are you –“

“Yes,” he laughs, “I am _sure_ Varric is notin love with you. Trust me.”

*

Nautica looks downright miserable as she crosses the field to the gathering, and Cullen almost feels wretched about letting her stew all afternoon. Almost.

He steels himself, closing his eyes. It was not his preferred way of doing this sort of thing, but her confusion might end up hurting more people. He thinks, very loudly. _Cole?_

“Cullen?”

He smiles, opening his eyes. “Nautica,” he greets her, offering his arm. “Walk with me?”

She hesitates for a moment, but assents, her hand light on his arm. Beyond, the Singquisition strikes up a lowkey number, soft and sweet in the evening air. “What is this all about?”

“I had rather hoped you would have been happier,” he admits. “Today was supposed to be something of a grand gestures, but you have a terrible habit of thwarting my efforts.”

She frowns, looking up at him. “What do you mean?”

“You are single-minded, stubborn, entirely oblivious to even the smallest romantic gesture… and yet I am rather endeared by it.” He chuckles, taking her hand in his and bringing it up to his lips. “Maker take you, Nautica, you are impossible to court.”

She stares for a long moment at their joined hands. “But – but Cole -”

As if summoned by her words, the boy appears by their side, smile broad. “Can’t you hear it?” he asks softly. “His heart is so _loud_.”

Her eyes widen, flicking up to meet Cullen’s. “Oh.” And then - _“Oh!”_

“ _Almost in time, a drumbeat, tattoo of passion_ – that would be a good line for Varric’s books,” the boy considers, “if he were not preoccupied…” And he vanishes again, leaving the pair staring at each other, smiles broad.

“You could have just said,” she laughs, and he feels emboldened, pulling her closer.

“I did,” he points out. “The flowers, the singing – I was hardly subtle.”

“Yes, well. You must remember I am not exactly… well-versed… in courtship.”

“Then let me guide you,” he murmurs. “If you are amenable, the next step is usually a little more… passionate.”

“I might be quite amenable to that,” she whispers.

“Oh, good.” And he kisses her in the dying sunlight, hearts finally in step.


End file.
